Dead Memories
by the Last Flowerchild
Summary: After Toki falls into a coma, Pickles remembers the memories they made together and just how much he loves the guitarist. Will he be able to pull Toki out of his coma and save him from a lonely death? SLASH. Reviews are love.
1. Chapter 1

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****WARNINGS****

**Sex/Slash**

**Drugs/Alcohol usage**

**Some bad language.**

**If you don't like, don't read.**

****DISCLAIMER****

**I do not, will not, and never have claimed these characters as my own.**

**Reviews are love.**

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"_But when I get home to you_

_I find the things that you do_

_Will make me feel alright..."_

_~~The Beatles, A Hard Day's Night_

_**::M E M O R Y 1::**_

_**Candy Kisses**_

How stupid. How utterly stupid and dildos. It was so dumb that it made Pickles scoff and repeat, "To the _what? _The fuckin' movies?"

In front of him Toki was nodding eagerly, saying, "Ja, to the movies! Likes just yous and me toge-"

"Yeah, I heard 'dat part, but I just don't get why on Earth I'd do that," the drummer said, grinning. "I mean, I know it sounds stupid, but you almost make it sound like you wanna go on a _date _with me, which is dumb 'cause...'cause..." Pickles' voice trailed off once he recognized the hurt look that now dominated the Norwegian's face. He cleared his throat and struggled to redeem himself. "No, look, I'm an idiot. I-"

"Pickle, why can'ts you just gives me a chance?"

"Give you a chance? I..." he bit his lip and his face turned a little red. God, did he feel like an asshole. Toki's pale blue eyes were tearing up as Pickles said, trying to hide his shame, "Okay, look, it's just that...well...how weird would that _look? _I mean, the two of us just sneakin' off and goin' to see a movie. Not very brutal."

"Well I wants to go see that new horror ones, but nobody will takes me," Toki said, attempting to seem like his invitation hadn't been in a romantic sense at all. By the way he was blushing, though, Pickles could see right thru this act. "I just wanted you to dos me a favor, that ams all. I just gos ask..." he frowned and said after a moment of contemplation, "Skwisgaar."

He turned to leave, but Pickles jumped out of his seat and caught him. "Okay, look, I know what you're tryin' to do. If I do ever take you out, I don't want it to be to some stupid place like the movies."

The guitarist arched a brow. "Where you hads in mind?"

"I...uh..." he thought for a moment. "Well...I..." he cursed under his breath. _I really gotta learn to think of things before I say them, _Pickles thought, desperately trying to think of some place—_any _place—to take Toki.

"I wants to go to the circus."

His mouth fell open. "I—huh? The fuckin' circus? Are you serious?"

Toki nodded and explained, "I haves been in America for a whiles, but I never been to the circus yet. In Norways we don't haves a circus, just lots of snows and stuff."

"Well, I guess that would be okay, 'den," the drummer said. He nodded and repeated, "Yeah, fine. Sure, why the fuck not? I'll take you to the stupid, douchebag circus, Toki."

The Norwegian let out an exclamation of delight and wrapped his arms around Pickles' neck. "Thanks you, thanks you! This ams gonna be so fun! Wowee, thanks!"

"Yeah, sure. Whatever. We're gonna go at seven, so be ready. I don't wanna wait for you." And with those last words, the drummer coolly made an exit. He had managed to play it off well, he felt. Somehow Toki hadn't noticed how excited he was. A date with Toki Wartooth? This night was going to be something, that was for sure. Whether it be a _good _something or a _bad _something, Pickles had no clue. He just knew that he was happy to go.

Pickles and Toki met and managed to sneak out of Mordhaus together at seven o'clock sharp that night. As soon as they arrived at the circus, the drummer felt his heart sink. There were little kids _everywhere. _He hated, _hated, hated_ stupid, annoying, spoiled little brats. Toki, though, didn't really seem to mind too much until a kid actually came up and asked for his autograph.

"Wow," the kid yelled, "It's Toki Wartooth!"

"Aw shit," Pickles said, his green eyes growing wide. Everyone was now staring at the both of them, their eyes prying, searching to see if they were indeed the famous musicians from _Dethklok. _With little thought, the drummer pushed the kid to the side and grabbed Toki's hand. "C'mon," he whispered, "let's just get outta here, huh?"

"But why? I wants to see-"

"Because I don't want anyone to recognize us, dildo!" Pickles hissed.

The kid just kept howling and howling, "Ma, come quick! Toki Wartooth's _right here! _I want a picture, I want an autograph, I want-"

"Toki, please, Gad, give the kid your fuckin' autograph and let's go." the drummer begged. People were beginning to crowd around them now, all murmuring amongst themselves.

The Norwegian rolled his eyes and said thru gritted teeth, "But I _hates _kids, Pickle."

"Just do it, please!"

He couldn't remember ever having told anyone please, but it encouraged Toki to pull a pen out of his pants pocket and grab a napkin from a nearby spectator. "Okays," he grumbled, kneeling down and glaring at the kid. "What you wants it to say?"

"To Damien from-"

"Ja, Ja, from Tokis Wartooth, I gots it." he scribbled it down quickly then passed it to Damien. "That ams good?"

The kid turned the napkin upside down and cocked his head to the side. "Uh, Mr. Toki? I can't read what it sa-"

"That's because I can't writes in Englishes, so it ams in Norwegian. Gos away now and lets me and my boyfriend alone."

Everyone in the crowd gasped at the guitarist's words. Pickles' eyes grew wide as he let go of Toki's hand and hissed, "What the _fuck _are you doin', douchebag? I ain't your boyfriend! Take 'dat back!"

"But we ams on date, Pickle. You was one who what says ams taking me out."

"Yeah, but I-"

"So you like men, Mr. Toki?" Damien cut in, staring at his hero in a very puzzled way.

The Norwegian turned to him and said irritably, "Why ams you still here?"

" 'Cause my mom says that guys who like other guys are faggo-"

"You'd better shut your fuckin' mouth, kid," Pickles warned, taking a step closer to the boy. Toki's face had grown red and he was trying to hide the embarrassed look on his face. In a second he had slipped his hand into the drummer's and was desperately attempting to pull him away and into the crowd.

"Please, this was stupids idea. Let's just gos, please."

"No, Toki. You can't let people call you shit like 'dat."

"Whys not if it ams true?"

Pickles shook his head and raised his middle finger to Damien, who was still staring from one musician to the other, a confused look on his young face. "Hey, go tell your stupid mam _'dis."_

The crowd of spectators had grown absolutely rowdy now, and as Pickles flicked the little boy off, they began shouting and calling out. Young, fourteen-year-old girls threw off their shirts, yelled, "It's Pickles the drummer and Toki Wartooth, it really is!"

Every girl in the whole place began begging each of the two muscians to let them bare their children, but Pickles pushed past them all the same. Toki was marching far ahead of him now, and in a second he had disappeared into the crowd. The drummer stood in his spot, tried to seek him out, but it was all in vain. In an instant a hundred fan girls had surrounded him, begging for his autograph, for sex, and drugs...

"Get the fuck away from me! Gad, can't we just have _one _fuckin' thing for us—just one night?" he bellowed, pushing them and shoving them roughly out his way. Before going out, he managed to find the snack counter and buy a few boxes of candy.

gummi bears were Toki's favorite.

Pickles brought about six little bags of those and headed outside of the circus tent, his arms laden with sugary treats. Toki was sitting a ways away in the parking lot, carefully tucked between two huge minivans. The drummer walked over to him, dropped the candy, and took a seat next to the sniffling, crying Norwegian.

"Hey, are you...I dunno, okay?"

"Ja."

"You don't wanna-"

"Nos."

"-talk about it?"

Toki shook his head and hugged his knees to him. He buried his head in his arms and said, his voice muffled, "Nos, just piss off and leaves me alone."

"Oh. Okay, but I bought you some candy," Pickles said, blatantly ignoring the guitarist's request for him to go away. He looked up at the starry night sky and smiled a little. "Huh. Nice spot. Nobody'll find us here."

"They can't lets us haves it, huh, Pickle?" Toki asked, wiping his nose on the sleeve of his blue shirt and grabbing a pack of gummi bears.

"Have what?"

"Haves each other."

What could he say to this? "I...Gad, Toki, look, I don't think that what we're doin' is-"

"I learns something about it," he interrupted. "Long times ago, when I first met you. I learned that for some things you can'ts think about it, 'cause then you get scared and don't dos it."

Pickles frowned. "Can't think about what?"

"Who you likes You just gots to let it happen." he paused for a moment then wiped the tears from his eyes. Before continuing he ate one pack of gummi bears and opened another. "Pickle, I'ms sorry about this. This was stupids idea. I should have known that you didn't wants to go out with me, but I just wanted you to gives me a chance."

"But I did-"

"Just one fuckings chance, and I thoughts...I thoughts I mights make you feel _okay." _Toki explained, looking down at his boots. " 'Cause when I ams with you, I always feel _okay, _but I just—I really, really wants to just feel okay like that always."

Pickles sighed. "Toki, look, I'm sorry. Hey, c'mon, look at me."

The Norwegian looked up, his wonderfully bright eyes glowing shockingly in the moonlight that shone above their heads. The drummer swallowed and leaned close to him. Toki was right. It was time to stop thinking about everything. Sometimes you just had to let things happen on their own, and right now Pickles' heart was certainly beating a fucking mile a minute on its own. He took a deep breath and breathed, "Come here."

Toki smiled a little and crawled over into the drummer's arms. He hugged him tightly, trying to retain what warmth hadn't been taken from his body in the chilly city air. "You so warms, Pickle. You feels so nice."

"Um-hmm," was all he could say to this. This whole thing was insane. Loving Toki? Loving him like he loved women? That was insane, but that was what he wanted most, to love and be loved. Yes, he would give Toki _more _than just one chance. "Hey, look."

Toki looked up, opened his mouth to ask, "What?" but he couldn't get the words out before Pickles was kissing him, before his hands were making their way into the Norwegian's long, brown hair. The drummer's fingers brushed thru the guitarist's hair, traveled down to his belt, and to his hips, and Pickles thrust himself forward, so that both of them were touching in that wonderfully intimate way. Toki let out a moan and allowed Pickles' warm hands find his. God, Toki tasted so sweet, like every kind of wonderfully sugary candy in the world. Fruity, like the gummi bears he had just been devouring. Their fingers laced together, their bodies pressed so close; hearts beating so impossibly fast. It was delicious.

"Oh," Toki whispered as Pickles ended the kiss. "Oh, Gods, that ams-"

"I'm gonna give you a chance," the drummer said, swallowing. "I'll give you a million chances."

"You means you and me ams-"

"Toki, we're whatever the fuck you want us to be, just do me a favor and kiss me again."

Their lips met again, but this time it was brief, because in a moment there was the sharp cracking of thunder overhead. As Toki broke away and looked up, a drop of rain splashed down on the pavement next to them. Pickles licked his lips. He longed for more of those kisses, those sweet, candy kisses, but then another drop of rain fell, and another.

Toki jumped to his feet and pulled the drummer up just as it began to pour down. "Pickle, we gots to gos! We're gonna gets soaked!"

"Okay, okay, just-"

As soon as the two had stood up, a familiar sounding voice came to them. Damien. He was running up, this time holding the hand of a young, wide-eyed girl, yelling, "Oh, oh, oh! Mr. Toki, could you please give my girlfriend an autograph to? Huh, couldja? She said if I got you to sign her _Dethklok _CD she'd sleep with me, whatever that means!"

Toki gasped, "Oh, wowee..."

Because behind the two kids there followed a whole mob, all waving _Dethklok _albums in the hands and shouting. Pickles cursed and gabbed the Norwegian's hand. "Come on."

And they ran. They jumped on top of cars and slid over hoods, leaving dirty footprints on the paint, but neither of them really cared that much. They got soaked as they made the mad dash out of the parking lot. Unfortunately, they had managed to take the bus down to the fairgrounds—the Dethcycle would've looked to obvious. Or, at least, that's what Pickles had thought. Now he was regretting this decision. Toki got around with relative ease, and by the time they reached the end of the fairgrounds he was nearly dragging the drummer behind him.

"I...I really shouldn't smoke so much, huh?"

Toki grinned and pulled him along. "Comes on, Pickle."

They hurried down the street and made a left, so that they were heading towards the heart of the glowing city. High buildings and streetlamps loomed above them as they walked, each step they took splashing and soggy. Finally they reached an ally and slipped discreetly into it, both laughing hysterically at some unknown thing. If he had been with anyone else, Pickles would've been cursing and yelling and complaining about how he needed some vodka, but with Toki he couldn't bring himself to do any of these things. He just leaned against the brick wall of a building laughing like an idiot.

Toki fell into his arms and soon they were both holding each other, panting for breath. "I...I gotta-" Pickles breathed, "-I gotta admit that 'dis is pretty fun and...well, I'm glad that it's with you, Toki."

The guitarist blushed a deep shade of red and accepted a kiss on the cheek. "I'm glads that you ams here too, Pickle."

"You're really are great, you know that?"

He shrugged and tried to put some of his dripping went hair behind his ears. "Ja, I knows." he shivered and snuggled a little closer to the drummer. "I'ms so colds, though!"

"Yeah, and I'm soaking wet." Pickles looked around and out the narrow alley. It was still pouring outside. He glanced at Toki and distractedly ran a hand thru his now dark, dripping hair. "Sorry about all this. Just keep close and try to stay warm."

Suddenly he wished more than anything that he had a jacket or something to give to Toki, but he didn't. All he could do was swallow and grin as an idea came to him. "You know what I'm gonna do for you, Toki? Huh?"

"Ja?"

"Give you the shirt off my fuckin' back." he took off his sleeveless shirt and threw it at Toki. He knew that it wouldn't do much good, that it was so wet that it was actually dripping rainwater onto the Norwegian's boots, but at least it was _something. _After all, Toki was his boyfriend now, and he had to take care of him.

But the guitarist shook his head and carefully handed the shirt back to him. "It ams fine. Really, I'm okays."

"I just don't want you to get sick or anything."

"I'll be fines. Look, let's just gos home."

Before turning and walking out the alley, Toki reached over and took Pickles' hand. As the two walked down the street, he began swinging it playfully, so much that the drummer could barley walk straight. But it was still fun, and Pickles still didn't want to be anywhere else. As they walked he leaned over and gave Toki a kiss.

Yes, he felt _okay._

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****A/N****

**The movie that really inspired me to make this chapter what it was is _A Hard Day's Night, _by the Beatles, so that's the reason I quoted the song. Just decided to mention it in case you were curious. Also, sometimes Pickles will say stuff like 'Gad' instead of God and 'aff' instead of off. Why? Because that's just how he talks in the show, so that's how I'll type it. Anyways, thanks for reading, much love to you.**

**Please review. I'll love you forever.**

**[Peace & Love]**


	2. WINTER

"_It was cold on the docks that night_

_As a frozen white light_

_Shone across my shoes_

_As I stood in the darkest blue_

_There came a light towards me_

_On the water that lay before me_

_And I could not wait to touch_

_The frozen hands that had felt so much."_

_~~Civil Twilight, On the Surface_

_**::M E M O R Y 2::**_

_**Only Sun**_

During winter the nights were cold, with pearly white flecks of snow coating the dead grounds of the Mordhaus in a dreamworld of icy wonder. On those nights, when the moon was a distant speck beneath a thick layer of black clouds, Pickles and Toki would meet up, gather all the blankets and pillows they could find, and build themselves a comfortable haven down in the recording studio. They would lock the door and usually stay up all night or fall asleep in each other's arms, whispering and talking about everything from music to food. It didn't matter. Together they shut away the cold and created their own world.

Pickles might sing Toki a song—the Norwegian really had a horrible singing voice unless he was singing a song in his native language. Sometimes, when he could be talked into it, Toki would get his guitar and play something for the drummer, smiling sheepishly and blushing as he did so. Other times they might just talk or hold each other's hands, or tell each other stories or talk about song lyrics. Very rarely did booze or drugs find their way down in the studio, but when they did the supply was endless and good.

But tonight was different. As Pickles threw the pillows and blankets down on the floor and locked the door, he felt a heavy tension in the air. Toki was laying his head on his own pillow, his shirt, boots, and jeans thrown haphazardly in a corner of the room. The guitarist was hugging his teddy close to him, and as Pickles went over and sat down next to him, he blinked and looked up.

"Pickle, you ams gonna tell me a story tonights?"

He shrugged and laid down next to him. "Depends. What kind of story you wanna hear?"

"A nice ones."

"Okay, well-"

"And makes it one with good stuffs."

He arched a pierced brow. "Like what?"

"Ones where two people falls in love."

It had been about six months since their first date at the circus. Together they had watched summer turn into fall and fall give way to winter, but never once had Toki actually said those words that Pickles was praying to God to hear. _I love you. _The drummer wouldn't say them, either. He _couldn't _say them, not until the guitarist did. He had never heard it before in his life, never from his mother or his father, so he didn't really know how to go about saying it to begin with. It seemed as if the whole future of their relationship depended on whether or not Toki would get over his apparent timidness and just spit it out already—that is, if he really did feel that way about Pickles, which, the drummer was quite sure, he didn't. Nobody had _ever _loved him, so why should he expect it from Toki?

And so that's also why Pickles really didn't know how to begin this stupid love story. What could he say? "I...well, I don't really know none of those kinds of stories."

"Oh. That ams fine, then." Toki said, rolling over onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. "I'll just gos to sleep, then. I'm tired anyways."

Pickles frowned. Something was wrong. He reached over and gently touched his cheek, trying to pull him out of his moody behavior. "Toki, what's up with you? Do you feel okay or whatever?"

He nodded. "Ja."

"Then what's wrong?"

"I...ums...well, I was just thinkings, that's all."

"About what?"

"Home."

"Oh." he sighed. When Toki was thinking about home, it was never good. Pickles scooted over and sat against the wall of the studio, his arms open. "C'mon, I guess."

Toki smiled a little and crawled over into the drummer's arms. He sat with his back against Pickles' chest, staring over at the opposite wall. He closed his eyes and let his head fall back on the drummer's chest before beginning in a whisper, "There was somethings back in Norway, back at my homes..."

Pickles, sensing that he would have to pull Toki out of one of his 'moods', hugged him closer. He loved how the Norwegian's bare skin felt against his, and as he felt this warmth he became grateful that Toki was just wearing his boxers. "Uh-huh," he breathed. "What about it?"

"I woulds do the chores, you knows, right?"

He nodded. "Yep."

"Ands sometimes I woulds mess up ands...ands..."

"What is it, Toki?" Pickles encouraged, running a gentle hand over the smooth skin of the guitarist's cheek. "C'mon, you can tell me anything."

"I would gets punished a lots. There was this place, this deep, dark hole and I woulds go down there for days when I fucks up." Toki admitted, his eyes tearing up at the memory of it. "And I-I ain't had no ones. I haves always been alone, and used to I would feels just like I was in that holes again, 'cause I was so alone, but—" he cut his voice off for a moment and took a deep breath before saying, "Pickle, I gots you now, huh? I don't feel so bad no mores."

He nodded once more. "Yeah, you got me."

"And I guess what I ams trying to say is that...well..."

Pickles felt his heart stop beating for a moment as he asked urgently, "Yeah, huh?"

Toki looked up at him, his wonderfully pale blue eyes shining with affection. "Pickle, I loves you."

There it was. All at once every worry that Pickles had ever had about his relationship with Toki melted away, like snow in the face of the rising sun. He let out a little cry, his green eyes blurring with the effort of holding back joyful and grateful tears. He turned the guitarist around so that they were both facing each other. The drummer closed his eyes and rested his forehead against Toki's, struggling to contain the amazing feeling he felt rushing thru him.

Toki loved _him?_Fucking _him? _Out of everyone in the whole, stupid world Toki wanted to be with _him?_ Pickles was the biggest fuck-up on the face of the Earth, but somehow the best and most perfect person in the world loved him? God damn, that was a miracle.

And then the Norwegian's timid question came. He asked, his voice shaking with both fear and anticipation, "Pickle, you loves me?"

He nodded and said, "Yeah, so fuckin' much."

The tension immediately left the room, and suddenly Toki was hopping up and down, yelling, "Then that ams good, that ams really good, 'cause I was afraids that you woulds say no and I'd haves to—but you saids yes!"

Pickles watched this display with a grin on his face. "You happy, huh, Toki?"

He nodded and fell to the floor, knelt facing the drummer, his face alight with the joy that a small child might have at Christmas. His hair was everywhere now, falling over his bare shoulders in a lavish brown curtain. "Ja, sos fuckings happy, 'cause I thoughts you _didn't _loves me like that. I thoughts-"

"Toki, how could anyone not love you?"

"I don'ts know. How could anybody not loves _you?"_

"I—what?" Pickles laughed. "Are you kiddin'? Toki, you may think you love me, but trust me, you don't. _Nobody _loves me. Not even my fuckin' parents love me, okay? You don't love me like you think you do."

At his words the happiness drained from the guitarist's face, and in an instant he was frowning. "Whats you mean, Pickle?"

"I dunno, just look." He said, shaking his head. "I know for a fact you can't love me, 'cause nobody ever has before. I just—I don't know, I guess I'm just one of those people that don't _need _to be loved. I guess-"

"You means you don't need me?"

His eyes grew wide and he said fearfully, "No, I do, I do, it's just-"

"Well thens I love you. It ams simple as that, Pickle."

He frowned. "But Toki, listen, I-"

"Nos, you listens," he began, sounding uncharacteristically serious. "I haven't never gotten no love from nobodys either—not my dads and not really my moms. I've _always _beens alone, but now I haves you. Pickle, don't you gets it? _Jeg elsker deg._"

Pickles chuckled. "What does 'dat mean?"

"I loves you."

He looked down and felt his face turn red. What an idiot he'd been to ever question Toki's love for him. Why couldn't he just accept it and be happy about it? Toki could obviously sense that Pickles now saw his error for what it was, because in a second he was sitting Indian style, holding and tuning his guitar. Pickles stared over at him quizzically.

"What're you—"

"I'ms going to sing yous a song."

"But usually I have to beg you to."

He shrugged. "Well nows I wants to." he began plucking at the strings for a while until finally he said, "There, now I gots it." and he cleared his throat, got up, and plugged in his guitar. "I wants to see if you can tells me what means it."

Pickles sighed. "Couldn't you just sing it in English?"

"That wouldn't be as much funs, though."

"Would be for me," he grumbled.

And Toki sat down on the amp and began singing, his voice and guitar echoing in the room. His voice, singing in Norwegian, sounded so innocently and pure, like a little child's. Pickles loved it. He loved everything about Toki, but especially when he sung those foreign songs. Unfortunately, they were usually soft, but each one was just as beautiful as the next, and somehow Toki always managed to make the ancient Norwegian lyrics fit the tune he strummed on his guitar.

_Sol ute, sol inne._

_Sol i hjertet,_

_Sol i sinnet,_

_Sol, bare sol._

And he would repeat it again and again, making it sound sweeter each time, his voice becoming softer and softer, until it tapered off into a whisper of _Sol ute, sol inne. _When he was done, he gently placed his guitar down and smiled over at Pickles. "You likes it?"

He nodded. "Yeah, it was amazing."

"What do you thinks it ams was about?"

He sighed. Toki always seemed to be trying to teach him something about his culture. Sometimes it was good, but sometimes it was just too much. But then again, usually the Norwegian's real self was caged in and Americanized to the point of madness, so he guessed it was only fair to let him talk about his home country now and again.

"I dunno. Somethin' about the soul?" 

"Suns, Pickle, it means suns." Toki cleared his throat and repeated in English, "Sun outside, sun inside. Sun in the heart, sun in the mind. Sun, only sun."

"Oh...Gad, that's really nice, Toki."

"I only ever sings it for you, 'cause you ams like that," he explained, smiling delightedly. "You ams my sun."

The concept was so oddly childish that it made Pickles turn red, but he nodded in agreement and said, "Yeah, you're mine too."

"_Sol i hjertet, Sol i sinnet." _he repeated.

"Yeah, sun, only sun."

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****A/N****

**Yeah, I'm not really Norwegian—although I would like to learn the language—so please don't get offended if I don't conjugate verbs correctly or whatever. Seriously. I'm horrible at Spanish, so I figure that I'm butchering the Norwegian language to the point of utter horror, so sorry about that...**

**Anyways, hope you enjoyed the chapter. Isn't Toki just so freakin' adorable?**

**[Peace & Love]**


	3. SUMMER

"_You're like an Indian summer_

_in the middle of winter..."_

_~~Katy Perry, Thinking Of You_

_**::M E M O R Y 3::**_

_**Summer Heat**_

Once winter would pass, there would come spring and summer. Like winter, some nights just proved to be too extreme, and during the unbearable heat of the summer Pickles and Toki—who were now sharing a room together—would grab a couple of towels and venture outside in the dead and starry darkness to the lake. It was a place that usually wasn't visited, because nobody really ever desired a swim much, but on hot summer nights it was the perfect thing.

On one particular night the air conditioner—which had been running for several months straight—broke down. That was it for Pickles. He woke Toki up and lead him down to the lake. "Pickle, why ams it so damns _hot _here in America? Don't you peoples ever get tired of this stupid heat?"

"Nah, not really." the drummer answered back, taking his hand and guiding him down the slippery rocks that were the lake shore. "Careful." Toki stumbled, but Pickles caught him and asked, "You okay?"

"Ja, I'ms fine."

"Good. Come on."

He and Toki reached the water's edge and began stripping off their clothes and then, only whenever they were facing each other fully naked, did the drummer begin to make his way into the cool water. Toki followed close to him, his arm wrapped around the drummer's waist, his pale blue eyes reflecting the moonlight that streamed down on them. It wasn't too cold; the heat had warmed it up quite a bit, so that it was warm, but still far cooler than the surrounding night air. As they wandered into deeper waters, the Norwegian let out a little gasp and tugged at Pickles' arm.

"Let's not gos farther, okay?"

He laughed and draped his arm around Toki's shoulders lovingly. "Why nat? Huh? You're afraid?"

He shook his head. "Nos, I'm not afraids of anything, it's just that..."

They had gone skinny dipping in the lake lots of times before, but Toki never let Pickles venture past the shallow end. The drummer was beginning to understand what was wrong, though. He turned to face Toki and rested his forehead against his, giving him one of his sly little half-smiles. "Toki, you ain't afraid of water, are ya?"

The guitarist frowned and answered, "Of course not."

"Then what? You don't know how to swim or somethin'?"

He bit his lip and looked down into the flowing water. "In Norways all the lakes ams frozen."

Pickles laughed and grabbed both of his hands, backing away towards the middle of the lake. "You don't know how to swim? Then lemme teach you right now."

Toki tried to pull away, his face a blazing red. "Nos, really, I don't wants to learn."

"But I wanna _teach _you." Pickles' smile faded and his grip on the Norwegian's wrists lessened as he asked, slightly downcast, "You don't trust me?"

"No, it ams not that, I just..."

"Then come on. I won't let you drown."

He swallowed and whispered, "But what if there ams a fish that comes up and-"

"Toki, don't be stupid. Come on and trust me." Pickles pulled Toki close. The sudden movement sent ripples thru the black lake water.

"Is...um..."

Suddenly the guitarist dived into the depths of the lake. Pickles rolled his eyes and called, "Toki, come up out 'dat fuckin' water now or I'll go in and take your clothes with me so you'll have to walk back up to your room _naked."_

Bubbles arouse and the Norwegian's head came into view. He narrowed his eyes up at the drummer and challenged, "You wouldn'ts do that."

"You don't think so?"

He shook his head and wiped some of his hair out of his face. "Nos, 'cause you wouldn't want anyone else to sees me naked other than you."

Pickles cheeks turned pink. In the time that he and Toki had been together, he and the guitarist had never even slept together. He wanted to, but Toki's reasoning was always the same. He wanted a sign of stupid commitment—a ring. Pickles thought that this was ridiculous and he certainly had told the guitarist so, but Toki really didn't care for his opinion on the matter. He wouldn't let the drummer fuck him. But if Pickles wanted to, the Norwegian was always willing to strip off his clothes and let the drummer touch him. Touching and oral sex was never out of the question...

"You're a fuckin' tease, Toki," he said at last, kissing him. "A fuckin' bitch."

"Hows?"

"You let me eye-fuck you every time you so much as take aff your fuckin' shirt, but then whenever we even start to talk about sex, you-"

"A ring, Pickle."

"I'm gonna get you one!"

"And untils you do..."

He sighed and said dully, "No fucking. I know." and he latched on to Toki's wrists again and began swimming to the deeper water again. "Seriously, come on. Please?"

There it was again. That stupid please. _Please. _He hated saying it—to anyone that wasn't Toki—but it was okay, because the Norwegian was coming closer to him, sometimes kissing his cheek or his neck. Pickles accepted the kisses and lead Toki out to the center of the lake before letting him go.

"See? I'm not gonna let nothing bad happen to you, dildo."

Toki grinned and said shyly, "Wells I had to come or you would've stolen my clothes, right?"

He nodded. "Hell yeah, just to see you walking around he house fucking naked."

"Everyones would have seen, though. Skwisgaar and Nathans..."

"Yeah, Skwisgaar." Pickles said bitterly. He didn't really like the Swede. Back when he had brought groupies home, Skwisgaar had always stolen them from him. The drummer hated to think of what the Swede would do to Toki if they had a night alone together...

The mere thought of someone else being with Toki—_his _Toki—made his stomach drop.

He hugged the guitarist close and said, "Ain't nobody _ever _gonna see you like this other than me, right?"

"Ja, Pickle. I only loves you."

"Hmm...yeah," he whispered, his hands finding Toki's hips and pushing them against his. Toki began kissing him; his lips, his cheeks, his neck. Everywhere. He even raised one of the drummer's hands up from the water and began kissing the fingertips, making Pickles grin. He brushed his lips against the Norwegian's and pulled away.

"Waits, come closer, please," Toki breathed softly, wrapping his legs around Pickles' hips. The water swirled and rippled wildly, splashing and churning.

The drummer let out a choked and surprised laugh and began swimming back to the shallow end of the lake. Toki held on, kissing him and pressing against him. Pickles swallowed. He could feel the Norwegian's growing erection as he swam, and he tried to control his own. "Toki, wait a second, just hold up. I don't wanna drown."

Only when he reached a point where he could feel the lake bottom did he return his full attention to the guitarist. Toki resumed kissing like crazy, as though this was the last time they'd be able to be together, but it was all innocent. Just little candy kisses. His hands held Pickles' face as he kissed him, holding him as if he might break. It all surprised the drummer. Never before had he seen Toki like this, so hot and willing. So dominating. He let out a moan as Toki's erection pressed against him.

"Shit, Toki, Gad...you're fuckin' hard. You know 'dat?"

"Oh. Sorry." His old sheepishness had returned to him, and he pulled away a little, blushing. "Sorrys."

"No, it's _good." _the drummer said, smiling. He brushed some of Toki's drenched hair away from his face with his dripping wet hand. "Tease."

"I ams not!"

"But you sure are horny, huh?"

Toki opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. Finally he responded with, "So ams you. You gots boner too, you know."

"Yeah, but I actually own up to the fact that I wanna fuck you," Pickles said, running his hand along the small of Toki's back. "At least I do 'dat much."

"Well you _knows _that I want to dos it with you!" he said, laughing. "Buts I want-"

He rolled his eyes. "I know, okay? A god damn, douchebag ring!"

The guitarist nodded and let his head fall on the drummer's shoulder. "Ja, then...then wes can fuck."

"Yeah, and I'm gonna make it really nice." Pickles said, smiling. "Really fuckin' sweet." and he looked up at the moon. Sometimes heat-lightning would light up the sky, turn the black clouds white. It reflected off the gentle water, seeming like some great explosion of brightness. "Hey, Toki?"

"Huh?"

"You brought towels?"

The Norwegian's face paled. "Is...um...maybes have forgot..."

He sighed. "Great. What're we gonna do now?"

"Well," he said, giving the drummer an uncharacteristically wicked smile, "we coulds always run back to our rooms _naked."_

"What if Skwisgaar sees?"

Toki shrugged. "Then he ams jealous."

Pickles laughed. "Yeah, sure, okay."

And they began to wade back over to where they had thrown their clothes. It was strange, but suddenly, as Toki's full, wet, and naked frame emerged from the lake, the dry summer night seemed a hell of a lot hotter.


	4. SPRING

"_Love you forever and forever_

_Love you with all my heart_

_Love you whenever we're together_

_Love you when we're apart."_

_~~The Beatles, I Will_

_**::M E M O R Y 4::**_

_**A Ring For My Love**_

Spring came. It was a good, fresh time. By now Toki and Pickles had been together for nearly a year, and their time had been nirvana, the likes of which Pickles had never known. Never in his whole life had any one person managed to have such an effect on him. There was no other way to put it, because Toki not only made him a better person—he hadn't touched booze or drugs in months—but he was the real reason the drummer woke up.

_I wanna see Toki,_ he would think, yawning and pulling himself out of bed. _I've gotta get thru the stupid recording session and finish up the album so I can spend time with him..._

And one day he decided that enough was enough. It was time for him to accept the fact that not only did he want to spend the rest of his life with the adorably perfect Norwegian, but he also wanted to let everyone _else _know this as well. One day he convinced Toki to go to the mall with him so he could buy a ring. The guitarist came without complaint and they entered the huge shopping center holding hands.

"Pickle, I wants iTunes card sos to buy new _Dimmu Borgir _and _Borknagar _songs."

The drummer sighed. All of those stupid bands sang in Norwegian, and all of their annoying songs went on the 'TOKI'S PLAYLIST' section of _his_ iPod touch. "What about _Iron Maiden, _huh? Don't you like 'dem no more?" he himself had introduced the guitarist to _Iron Maiden._

He nodded. "Ja, thems ams my favorite English band, but I wants more Norwegian music. Please, Pickle?"

"What about 'dat one German-"

"Comes on!"

He rolled his eyes and finally said, "Okay, fine, fine. But German does sound really coo-"

"I don't likes _Tool, _Pickle. I tolds you before." Toki frowned. "You don't likes my music?"

"It's okay, just-" his voice abruptly stopped.

They had been weaving thru the crowds searching for good stores when he saw it. Pickles' eyes grew wide. There was a store with the _Dethklok _logo on it in front of it. He swallowed. In the little glass sale window there were all kinds of _Dethklok _merchandise, but the thing that really caught his eye was a black ring with a shining silver gear engraved in the middle, like the kind the Klokateers got branded on the backs of their necks. He bit his lip and glanced over at Toki, who was staring at him oddly, a brow raised.

"Pickle, what ams-"

"Hey, why don't you go and get your stupid iTunes card while I wait for ya?"

"But why can'ts you-"

"I wanna go buy you some ice cream." he lied.

Toki's eyes lit up. "Okays! So whens I get back you can gets me strawberry? Huh?"

Pickles shrugged. "Yeah, sure."

"Thanks, Pickle! I loves you." he leaned forward and gave him a little kiss. Everyone passing by stopped and stared at them oddly. Some, realizing just who the two men were, pulled out their phones and took pictures.

The drummer didn't care, though. He had been with Toki too long to care. He was used to those kinds of stares, the way they were talked about every day on the _Dethklok _minute. He didn't care, so he kissed Toki back before saying, "Look, I'll see you in a sec, okay?"

"Ja, sees you."

"And try not to let anyone recognize you, okay?"

Toki nodded. "Ja, sures." and he turned and walked away. Thank God the Norwegian wasn't all that observant, because he didn't seem to notice the _Dethklok _store.

As soon as he was gone, Pickles slipped inside of the store and glanced around before going up the counter and digging in his pocket for his wallet. He came up empty and cursed, remembering that he had given Toki his wallet to hold and to buy his stupid iTunes card. The drummer rolled his eyes but didn't leave. Instead he said to the cashier, "Hey, dude, look, I'm gonna need that ring you got in 'dat window over there." he pointed to it and gave the man a friendly little smile.

The cashier narrowed his eyes and frowned. "I'm sorry, sir, but has anyone ever told you that you bare a striking resemblance to-"

"Yeah, yeah, get 'dat all the time. Ring, please?"

"Ring?"

"That ring in the front window—what's it made of?"

"Oh, _that _ring," the cashier walked out from behind his counter, went over to the window, and retrieved the ring. He brought it back over to Pickles and said, "Pure sterling silver and black opal with-"

Pickles frowned and took the ring, glancing it over. It was the oddest thing, but in this light the gear brand actually looked to be a deep red mixed with large swirls of silver. "Hey, what's 'dis part again?"

"Sterling silv-"

"I ain't a genius, but it's red."

"Sterling silver mixed with _blood."_

Pickles' eyes grew wide. "Blood? You mixed the fuckin' silver with blood?"

The cashier nodded. "Yes sir."

"What _kinda _blood?"

"Well, you see, it's an import from Germany, and there they have a rare kind of-"

"So it's blood from some rare, extinct thing?"

He nodded. "Well, yes, I suppose so, but keep in mind that something can't be both rare and extinct at the same time, or-"

"So it's black gemstone crap and silver mixed with Nazi blood?"

The cashier nodded once again and said with a hint of irritation, "Yes sir, pretty much."

"I'll take it." he threw the ring carelessly on the counter and said, "But the thing is I'm Pickles the drummer, from-"

"_Dethklok! _I knew there was something familiar about you!" the cashier said, his face lighting up. The drummer rolled his eyes as he began rambling, "I have all the albums, I swear to God, and—whose the lucky girl?"

"Huh?"

"The one you're buying the ring for, who is she?"

Pickles glared at him and reached for the ring. He put it in his pocket and said, "It ain't for no fuckin' stupid girl, dildo."

"Then who is it for?"

"Toki Wartooth."

The man's eyes grew wide. "So it's true, then? Everything everyone's been saying for the past few months? You two are really-"

"Look, like I said, I ain't got no fuckin' money—my wallet's with Toki, but look, I'll, I dunno, sign somethin' for it."

The cashier nodded. "Okay, sure! Anything for you! What about my new album?" he pulled a _Dethklok _album out from under the counter and said, "And if it wouldn't be too much trouble, could you get Toki to come back and sign it?"

"No way, dude. This is supposed to be a surprise. Just take what I offer and like it." he grabbed a pen that had been sitting on the counter and quickly scribbled his name on the album before pushing it back and saying, "There you go, douche bag. There's your fuckin' autograph, so could I just-"

"But you have to pay."

Pickles rolled his eyes. "That's what I'm tryin' to say. I don't have any money. It's-"

"Then you can't have the ring. Sorry, Pickles."

"Don't call me 'dat and stop cutting me off when I'm talking!" the drummer yelled, glaring at the cashier. "Just let me have the stupid ring and I'll give you my iPod! I don't care!"

The man arched a brow. "iPod? What kind and how much memory?"

"A new touch and we got it so 'dat it has 100MB of memory."

Of course the idiot wouldn't really be getting his iPod, because right then Toki walked into the store, a small frown on his face. "Pickle, why ams you ain't got no ice cream? I thoughts you said-"

"Toki Wartooth? Toki Wartooth is in my store?" the cashier cried, pushing his album at the Norwegian. "Could you do me a favor and sign this? If you do, then your boyfriend won't have to pay for the ri-"

"iTunes," Pickles blurted, his eyes darting from Toki to the cashier. "iTunes card, you got any?"

The man nodded. "Yes, good for purchasing all the _Dethklok _songs you could ever want."

"I want one, get me one."

Toki pulled out the drummer's wallet and said, "It ams fine, I already looks and they ain't got any left at the store."

"I have some right here!" the cashier said, handing one to Pickles. "That would be-"

"Just take all 'dis," he said, handing him a huge wad of cash. He leaned close to the man and hissed quietly, "I'll give you this to shut your mouth and not say anything about the ring." and then he went back over to Toki, kissed him, and took his hand. "Let's go get some ice cream, 'kay?"

"Okays, Pick-"

The cashier had whipped out his cell phone and was madly snapping pictures, saying, "This is going right to Facebook."

"Like hell it is," Pickles growled. He went over to him, took the phone, and threw it on the ground. His foot came down on it hard, breaking it into pieces as he laughed. "It was a piece of shit anyway," he said to the shocked cashier. "And just for 'dat, you ain't getting my iPod, douche bag."

He and Toki left the store laughing.

Pickles and Toki went home and spent the rest of the day together. Every night they went on walks together, loving the wonderful spring weather. Toki was usually the one who talked the drummer into these leisurely strolls, and he walked slowly, holding Pickles' hand and humming. It was nice, of course, but that night as he and the Norwegian left the house, Pickles felt his stomach turn and tighten.

What if he said no?

What if he threw the ring back at his face?

The drummer swallowed. Should he hold the ring, save it for a better time? What time was better than this one, watching as the huge clouds above them glowed gold with the light of the sun that they concealed, blocking the cottony white clouds from view. When he had been a boy and believed in God, he had actually thought that Heaven was quite literally up there in those kinds of clouds, and the sunlight that streamed thru them were beams that the pearly gates made when opening to that kingdom of gold. Just beyond these wonderful heaven-clouds was the plain blue sky, reminding Pickles that there was nothing more beyond the sky other than endless nothingness.

No Heaven, no pearly gates or kingdoms of gold.

Just him and Toki.

He lead the guitarist over to a fallen tree. The giant, dead oak had been brought down by lightning months ago during summer and the Klokateers had never gotten around to getting rid of it yet. It was okay, though, because he and Toki liked to sit on it and look up as the sun set. Like now, how Toki hopped up on the trunk, adjusted himself, and waited for Pickles to climb on; once he had, the guitarist carefully leaned against his shoulder and slipped his arm around his waist.

"Thanks for taking me outs today," Toki said, smiling. "I knows you were busy."

"Never too busy for you," he answered.

The guitarist let out a content sigh. "Anyways, it was nice. And you bought me iTunes card. Maybe I get a few _Snakes 'n' Barrels _songs on theres."

Pickles groaned. "Shut up."

"Nos, really. You used to be good at putting on makes-up..."

He grinned and nudged Toki lightly, saying, "Shut up, dude."

"...likes eyeliner and stuff. You had really good hair backs then, too. How long did it takes you to get it standing up and spike like thats, again?"

"Five hours," he grumbled, kissing the top of his love's head lightly. "Five fuckin' stupid hours."

Toki laughed. "Ja, and for the eyeliners?"

"I got good at doin' 'dat; I cut it down to about five minutes."

"That ams amazing," he said, staring away at the setting sun. "Everythings about you ams amazing, Pickle. I loves that about you."

"Yeah, well..." he took a deep breath and pushed Toki away a little. "I love you to, and that's why I did somethin' really just—I did somethin' stupid today." he finally managed to say, digging in his pocket. His hands were shaking violently, his face blushing as he took out the ring. As soon as Toki saw it he fell of the tree, yelling insanely and laughing. "Aw, crap," Pickles muttered, hopping down from his seat and helping the guitarist to his feet. "You okay? You hurt yoursel-"

"You gots me a _ring? _You really dids it?"

He was crying, Pickles noticed, biting his lip. He nodded and threw the ring to him. "Yeah, I guess I did. Just put it on, okay? I mean if you _want _to, but if nat, 'den-"

"No, I wants to, I wants to!" he took the ring and tried to put it on. His hands were shaking too badly, though, so he just ended up sobbing and saying happily, "I-I can't gets it!"

"Here," Pickles said, taking it. He slipped the ring onto Toki's finger and said, "Look, I want you to be mine. I wanna make everyone know that you're mine too, so there's no questions, okay?" he didn't realize it, but he was crying now, to. " 'Cause I ain't never loved nobody before, nobody but you, and I wanna be with you forever and-"

"I loves you to, Pickle, I reallys do." he stared at the black band on his finger and beamed. "We ams together now, we really are!"

"Yeah, and 'dey mixed blood in with the silver, too."

"No ways! Wowee, that ams cool!"

"I know, and...and..." he cleared his throat. Pickles really didn't know how to continue. He took Toki's hands and said, "You gonna stay with me, even though sometimes I'm a total asshole and dildo and-"

"Pickle, shuts up." Toki said, leaning forward and kissing him. It was a long kiss, one that was actually full of passion. No more candy kisses for his love.

**:: : ::: : ::: :: : ::: : ::: :: : ::: : :::**

****A/N****

**This chapter was somewhat difficult to write because although I found the idea of Toki wanting a true sign of commitment—hence the ring—adorable, I had minor difficulty thinking of how to make it _Dethklok _brutal if you know what I mean. Sorry if it came across as just stupid, but I think it's cute. I tried my best.**

**[Peace & Love]**


	5. FALL

"_My only friend, the end_

_It hurts to set you free_

_But you'll never follow me_

_The end of laughter and soft lies_

_The end of nights we tried to die_

_This is the end."_

_~~Jim Morrison[the Doors], the End_

_**::M E M O R Y 5::**_

_**The Last Night**_

When fall came around, Pickles and Toki were sharing a room on the top floor of the Mordhaus, high above the orange and dead-turning grounds of the mansion. The drummer hadn't had a drink or done any drugs since he and Toki had gotten serious—about six months ago, but now he was craving them, and as he brought out the little plastic bag of cocaine and a full bottle of booze, Toki frowned.

"Pickle, are you sure-"

"Yeah I am. Come here," he also had a special secret tonight. In a syringe he had heroin, waiting for the Norwegian. Toki could obviously sense that something wasn't right, because he just shook his head.

"I don't wants to do that shit. Why can'ts we just be together?"

" 'Cause I _need _this shit, okay?" Pickles said rather irritably. "If you don't wanna do it, then that's fine. You don't gotta."

Without further hesitation he opened the bottle of tequila, took a long drink, then sniffed up a few lines of cocaine. Toki watched him, shifting uneasily in his seat and looking down. Only when the drummer grabbed his wrist and presented the needle to him did he say anything.

"I saids no."

Pickles was high by now. So high that he pressed the cold tip of the needle to Toki's arm and breathed, his breath smelling of alcohol, "C'mon, Toki, c'mon! I wanna get high with you, 'kay? I wanna _fuck _you high...c'mon, lemme fuck you."

"No, Pickle. Not when you ams high."

He let out an angry yell and pushed Toki away. "But you said 'dat if I got you the stupid ring, then you'd fuck me! You still ain't lemme fuck you yet!"

" 'Cause I ams not ready!"

"Fuck you!" he said, throwing his bottle of tequila at the guitarist. Toki ducked and the bottle shattered against the wall, showering him with tequila.

"Pickle, you ams high. Maybes you should just calm down..." normally he would've left him there by himself, but he couldn't bring himself to do this now. Pickles would probably end up hurting himself, and Toki couldn't bear that, so he reached for the drummer's hand and said, "Why don't we just talks?"

" 'Cause I wanna get high!"

"But you ams high right now."

Pickles grinned and roughly pushed Toki down onto the floor. He retrieved the syringe and pressed it to the Norwegian's arm again, breathing, "Just do it for me, please."

"No, gets off of me!" he tried to push Pickles away, but he wouldn't move. Instead he threw the needle to the side and began laughing, his green eyes dull and unfocused.

"Fine, okay, okay, but I'm gonna fuck you," he said, his hand touching the crotch of Toki's jeans. "I'm gonna fuck you right now."

"Nos you ams not! Gets off!" he tried to get up, but Pickles pulled him back down. Toki's eyes filled with tears. He really didn't want to hurt him, but if he didn't stop then...

"Leaves me alone or I'll hit you!"

"You wouldn't hit me."

"Whys not?"

Pickles latched onto his shirt and yanked, pulling Toki to the ground again. " 'Cause ya love me."

"I'ms starting to wonder..."

He wasn't really serious, but the drummer was still infuriated anyway. He let out a hiss and kissed him, forcing his tongue in his mouth. Toki tried to get away, but was unable to, and that kiss turned into another one, one where Pickles grabbed the heroin-filled needle again and jabbed it into his love's arm. He pumped the drug into the guitarist's arm, holding back laughter. Toki's eyes grew wide and he pushed Pickles away, sobbing.

"What did yous do?"

"You're gonna get high," the drummer said happily. "You're gonna get high and lemme fuck you..."

"Gets off of me!" Toki yelled, throwing Pickles away from him. He landed on the floor a ways away, his green eyes shining with anger.

"Don't fuckin' _touch _me, you idiot!"

"Don't calls me idiot!"

"Why nat? That's what you are!" he insisted, rising to his feet. "A big, fuckin' idiot! Who the fuck do you think you are, tryin' to keep me away from drugs?"

Toki began crying, also getting up. "Who the fucks you thinks you ams for-"

"You're so damn sad, you know 'dat?" Pickles spat. "Look at you, you can't even speak English yet! And all those stupid Norwegian songs you sang for me are stupid, too!"

To say that Pickles was reacting stupidly would be a severe understatement, but he couldn't help it. He was pissed, so fucking pissed. Pissed at Toki for ever letting him have that first drink and line of cocaine, but mostly pissed at himself for doing it. He had to take his anger out on something. _Anything._

As the drugs and tequila raced thru him, clouding his mind, Pickles said, "Get the fuck outta my life! I hate you! Nobody could ever love you, you're so useless and stupid!" now all the anger and bitterness he had ever felt in his whole life was coming to him. Every insult his dad had thrown at him, every lie his brother had told about him...

Begging to be let free.

Toki was stumbling over to the bed, sobbing. "I don't feels good..."

The heroin was making him sick, but Pickles didn't care. He didn't care that with each passing second the drug was coming closer and closer to ending the guitarist's life. Toki had never done heroin, and the dose had been far too much. Pickles didn't sense this. He just grabbed the Norwegian's arm and threw him towards the door, not caring when Toki fell to the, sobbing. "Get the fuck outta my life! I don't need you! Did you really think that I could ever love you more than I love drugs? Huh?"

"Pickle, please stops yelling...I feels sick..."

"I don't give a fuck! Get outta my room!"

He didn't know what to do, what to say. He just felt horrible, and as Pickles yelled at him he could only think of one thing—his father. His father who had abused him and betrayed him and cursed his name...his father who he loathed. Without knowing what else to say, Toki blurted out, "I...I hates you, Pickle..."

"And I fuckin' hate you, too."

Toki's shaky hands found the door and he went out, crying. Pickles thought that was it. He had expected to feel better after abusing the person he loved, he expected to feel a little less angry. He didn't. He felt embarrassed, horrible, and disgusting.__He walked over and fell onto the bed that he and Toki had shared, fighting back tears of anguish. What had he done? He didn't quite know, the cocaine and booze wouldn't let him get a firm enough grip on reality to know. Instead they just made him feel good while his heart made him feel sick.

He expected that to be it, to pass out right there and wake up the next morning with a headache, but that didn't happen. Instead what he heard made him jump out of bed. There was a loud crash, a scream, and a sick sort of thudding noise. Pickles raced out of his room, his heart beating wildly. Once he rounded the corner of the hall that lead to he and Toki's room, he went and peered at the bottom of the stairs and there he was, his head cut open, pooling blood around his long, matted hair.

Toki was dead.


	6. Chapter 6

"_But it sure felt nice when he was holding my hand_

_There's a boy here in town says he'll love me forever_

_Who would have thought forever could be severed by_

_The sharp knife of a short life, well_

_I've had just enough time..."_

_~~The Band Perry, If I Die Young_

_**::M E M O R Y 6::**_

_**Letting Go & Saying Goodbye**_

The doctors said that he was in a coma, one that had been caused when he had hit his head falling down the stairs. Pickles hadn't known what this meant, so he asked Ofdensen, who told him that it meant Toki was asleep and might not wake up again. Asleep? _Asleep? _It was too hard to believe that that pale, placidly lifeless face was asleep, but he couldn't begin to imagine that it was anything else. Toki would wake up. Toki _had _to wake up.

Pickles visited him every day all day, ignoring his other obligations to the band. The album was put on hold, because everyone wanted to see Toki. Dead-asleep Toki. Pickles would sit beside his hospital bed holding the guitarist's hand and telling him anything he could think of—song lyrics, stories, or just rambling on and on, praying to a God that he didn't believe in that Toki would come back alive again. He never did.

One day Ofdensen entered the hospital room, looking grave. He placed a hand on Pickles' shoulder and said, "It's time to make a decision."

The drummer looked up. Down his face shining trails of tears ran. He was biting his nails as he asked, "What the fuck do you mean make a decision?"

"Pickles, Toki might not...wake up."

"He—no, he's gonna wake up. Trust me."

Ofdensen lowered his eyes to the Norwegian's sleeping face and said doubtfully, "True, he _could _wake up, but the odds of that are-"

"Fuck the odds!" Pickles yelled, choking back tears. "He's gonna wake up!"

A ways away Skwisgaar, Nathan, and Murderface sat, all looking down at the floor. Sometimes they would get up and try to talk Toki out of his coma, but it never did any good. Now they all were pale, their eyes shining brightly with tears. As Pickles screamed, Skwisgaar rose to his feet and said, "Fucks this, just lets it go, Pickle."

He glared over at him. "What?"

"It ammnest been three fuckings weeks and he still haves not showed us one sign that he still heres. Maybe we should just-"

"I'm not gonna let him go!"

"Think about it,"Ofdensen said. "Think about what Toki would want."

"He wouldn't want us to just forget about him!" Pickles protested. "He wouldn't want to d...d..." he couldn't even say the stupid word.

Toki and dying just didn't fit in the same thought process together. Toki _couldn't _die; it was impossible. He was full of too much life, too many wishes and childlike innocence. Pickles couldn't imagine seeing him expressionless and cold, his beautiful eyes closed and lightness. Without life or being, his soul lost and gone to wherever it is people went when they died. The mere thought made the drummer begin to sob. He looked back over to Toki and bit his lip. For the first time he realized just what Ofdensen was talking about.

Toki really did look purely and simply dead, his body unmoving, his face pale and dull. A bandage was wrapped around the place where he had split his head open and sometimes a little dark stain of blood could be seen thru it. The drummer could remember what he had done once he had found Toki lying at the bottom of those stairs. He had hurried to his side and seen the blood and the open wound that revealed the cracked white of Toki's skull and perhaps the gushing matter what was his brain...thinking about it made him gag. The doctors said his skull had been cracked, that his brain had swelled up because of his injuries and been pressed to the top of his skull. It was a thought that made Pickles feel numb and shake his head. He couldn't let him go. He couldn't let Toki die.

He squeezed the guitarist's hand and whispered, "Wake up for me, Toki, wake up." Nothing. He felt sick as he said, "C'mon, you're mine, you're my sun. Don't you remember 'dat? Don't you remember..." _When I said I hated you? _He thought, sobbing.

"I don't hate you, Toki, I love you so much...wake up, wake up..."

Ofdensen cleared his throat and said, his voice oddly thick, "Pickles maybe we should-"

The drummer looked up, his eyes red from all his sobbing. What he saw surprised him. For the first time since he had known him, Ofdensen, the finely suited manager of _Dethklok, _the most cool and precise man in the world, was crying. "Pickles, please, just let him go."

But he couldn't. Instead he turned back to where Toki lay, got down on his knees next to the bed, and pressed his cheek against the Norwegian's, whispering in his ear, "Sun outside, sun inside. Sun in the heart, sun in the mind. Sun, only sun. Remember 'dat? Huh?" he closed his eyes and begged, "You gotta remember it. Wake up, please, Toki, please. Don't leave me here. Please come back to me. I love you."

Ofdensen grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. "It's time to let him go."

Pickles didn't have the strength or the will to fight back. Toki was gone. He wasn't coming back, or so he thought. In his own coma-dead mind, the Norwegian was back home in the hole that his parent's used to throw him in when he was bad. There was no light, not warmth. Nobody but him and his loneliness. There were were snakes coming at him, hissing and ready to strike, but suddenly there was something else. Thru the endless layers of impenetrable consciousness that Toki's coma had brought, he heard some soft, familiar voice.

_Sun outside, sun inside. _

_Sun in the heart, _

_sun in the mind,_

_Sun, only sun..._

He shook his head and asked, his voice echoing in the pit, "Pickle?"

And he closed his pale blue eyes. There was a sudden chill, one that bit at his bones and sent tremors up his spine. Toki's teeth chattered together as he opened his eyes. He was out of that dark pit and the snakes were gone. He was back in the wild of Norway on a snowy plane, staring at a far away mountain range. The sun was just rising above the white peaks of the mountains. He swallowed and hugged himself, trying to make the harsh cold go away.

But it was to bad; so bad that all Toki could do to stay alive was to whisper, his voice trembling and weak, "_Sol ute, sol inne. Sol i hjertet, sol i sinnet, sol, bare sol." _He was so cold. So terribly cold. The wind bit at him, forming icicles in his long hair and eyelashes. Toki began to cry, "Where ams the warm? Where ams the sun?"

It took a moment for him to realize that he was dying. Dying of the cold. He let out a shaking breath, one that sent out a white cloud of vapor into the cool, snowy air, and fell to his knees, begging, "Please don'ts leaves me here...I'm dyings...alone."

_Alone. _Toki swallowed and shut his eyes tightly, trying to envision the only person who had ever made him really happy. His only love. He tried to think of Pickles. He tried to think of his kisses, the way he subtly slipped his hand into his, the way he looked before he kissed him...

The way he said 'I love you'...

...or 'I hate you'...

Toki couldn't even say a sentence. His breath was too short, coming in rasping, desperate pants. He was dying, freezing from the outside in as the snowy air bit thru him. Then he felt it. There was a break in the cold, and there was a sudden warmth. Toki managed to look up, his eyes clouded with tears, and there he was, standing above him in that snowy wasteland. The drummer helped him to his feet and hugged him tightly, in that way that Toki loved so much.

The way that made him feel as though nothing in the whole world could hurt him. The way that made him feel he was worth something. He could feel again and speak as the biting cold melted away into summer-sun bliss. "P-Pickle, what ams you doing here?"

"You gotta wake up, you gotta."

"Wakes up? I ams sleeping?"

Pickles nodded and whispered in his ear, "Yeah, Toki. You're in a coma."

He frowned. "Coma? What ams that?"

"It means you're asleep and you're not walkin' up." there was a break in his voice as he said, "You've been asleep for a long time, Toki. We think that you might not be able to come back to us."

"Comes back? But where did I gos?" He gasped. "Ams I dead?"

"No."

Toki smiled a little and snuggled up to Pickles a little more, burying his head beneath his chin. "You makes me so warm."

"Toki, look, you're about to die, but you've _gotta _wake up. Please, please. You've just gotta open your eyes."

The smile melted from the Norwegian's face as said, his voice full of hurt, "But you saids you hated me."

Pickles broke away and kissed like he never had before. His hands made their way to the gentle arch of the Norwegian's back and pushed their two warm bodies together, and as his lips met the guitarist's he began crying. When he broke away he kissed Toki again and again and again, like it was the last time he'd ever be able to. Each little time their lips met the drummer let out an almost pained moan. Then Toki broke away from him all together, trying very hard to contain his anger, confusion, and fear.

What was going on? What was a coma and why was he in one? Why was Pickles kissing him like this, like they'd never see each other again?

"Pickle, what ams going on?" and he distractedly fingered the ring that the drummer had given him so long ago, that beautiful black and blood-silver one. Suddenly he was sobbing, saying, "I can'ts wake up!" Pickles cast him a look of pure pain and suffering, and Toki understood it all. The drummer was kissing him because it _was _the last time they'd ever see each other again, because Toki was dead. He really was never coming back.

"How do Is do it? Pickle, helps me get out! Wake me up!"

"I can't! Only you can!" the drummer said, taking the guitarist's hands in his own. His green eyes flitted down to the ring and he smiled sadly. "Toki, don't let me lose you. Please come back. You've gotta wake up now or you're gonna die and there's nothing I can do about it." he looked up into the pale blue eyes of his love and said, "I don't wanna lose you."

Toki bit his lip and closed his eyes again, whispering, "I'm goings to dos it, I'm goings to wake up. I'm going to wake up...I've _got _to wake up...I...I..."

"Toki? Don't touch me, Ofdensen, just look! He moved his hand!" 

Pickles' voice echoed in Toki's mind, ushering into his coma-induced delirium a disturbing dose of reality. He really was asleep. People really were saying goodbye, about to let him go. He struggled to reach out of the snowy whiteness of his mind and move his hand again. Once he did, he was rewarded with the warm, comforting touch of Pickles and more yelling.

"I swear to Gad, he's awake! Look, he just grabbed my ha-"

_I've gots to speak..._

"Pickles, come on now, that's enough. Don't you think we should let him rest in pea-"

_It ams the only way..._

"Hmmm..." was all that was able to pass from his lips, and with this he was met with nothing but silence, and for one horrible, chilling moment he feared that that was it—they had let him sink back into his lonely oblivion, but then he managed to move his lips. _"Pickle?" _

And his blue eyes flitted open. Above him there loomed the red-haired drummer, tears leaking freely down his cheeks. Ofdensen stood next to him, his hand on Pickles' shoulder. Once he saw that Toki was awake, his mouth fell open and he gasped, "T-Toki? You're-"

"See?" Pickles interrupted. "I _told _you that he was gonna wake up!" and he threw his arms around Toki's neck and began sobbing.

Ofdensen just nodded and said, still astonished, "I...I guess if you're okay, Toki?"

All he could do was say dully, his eyes aloof, "Huh? Ja..."

"I guess I'll go see about filling out the paperwork to get you out of here." and Ofdensen turned and walked out of the room, wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his suit.

Once he was gone, Toki let himself sink back into his pillows and close his eyes. There were other familiar voices, those of Skwisgaar and Nathan and Murderface, all thanking God and crying, but all he heard—all he _cared _to hear—was Pickles' whispered words. The drummer was kissing him like before in Toki's dream, only this time it was much warmer. Much more welcome. This time Toki wasn't confused.

It was so painfully clear that all the previous anger was gone, and Pickles was pouring out apology after apology. "Toki, I'm so fuckin' sorry, I really am. I was such a fuckin' _dick. _Gad, I was stupid, and you wouldn't have woken up then...well, I'm just so fuckin' sorry. I love you so much, there's no way in hell that I could ever find anything about you to hate. You're so perfect and the only person whose ever-"

"Pickle, what happened to mes?"

The drummer pulled away and brushed his hand against Toki's cheek, clearly grateful just to be able to feel him, to see the life in his eyes and expression in his face. It was such a simple thing that made him so thankful. "Toki, you fell down the stairs and hit your head really bad. You've been in a coma for the past three weeks or so."

He arched a brow. "You lets me be in coma?"

Pickles shook his head and rested his forehead against Toki's. When he spoke his breath didn't smell of alcohol or anything. "No, Gad no."

"I...I thinks I remember that nights, up to when I left your room—when you throws me out. Remember?"

"Y-Yeah, I do." his voice was full of pain and sorrow. "I hate myself for what I did to you. Gad, I was so fuckin' _stupid." _he spat the word out hatefully, and Toki could see that not only was he really, genuinely sorry, but that he really did detest himself for that night.

The realization made the Norwegian reach forward and wrap his arms around the drummer's shoulders. He pulled Pickles closer to him and whispered, "I don't blames you for what happens. It would've happened anyways."

"But the last thing I said to you was-"

"Please, don't ever mentions that to me agains," he interrupted. "I've thought abouts it enough in my dream." and Toki paused before asking, "You knows where I was in my coma? You knows the dream I had?"

"What'd you dream?"

"I dreams that I was in the punish-place. Remember the ones I told you about? When I was bad, my parents would make me climb down into the hole and-"

"Yeah."

Pickles was silently praying that whatever Toki was about to say, it would ultimately lead to his forgiveness towards the drummer, and to his surprise, it did. "I was alones," he said, speaking solemnly. A ways away Nathan, Skwisgaar, and Murderface were trying to hear him talk, hanging on to ever word that he said."I was totally alones for days, but I kept think of somethings, then I hear your voice. _Sol ute, sol inne. Sol i hjertet, sol i sinnet, sol, bare sol..._and then I was in Norways again, standing in the middle of snowstorm, lookings at the sun coming up above the mountains."

" 'Dat's real beautiful, Toki." said, wiping his nose.

"And I was freezings to death, I know it, but something happened...someone came. It was you, Pickle. 'Cause for the past few weeks, as long as I haves been sleeping, I was really thinkings of you. Every memory and thing we've ever done togethers. You kept me alive, Pickle, _you._ You was my sun."

Pickles grinned and closed his eyes as Toki gently wiped away his tears and delivered a quiet, welcome-back kiss on his lips. "So does 'dis mean that you forgive me?"

"Ja," he said. "I always forgives you. _Jeg elsker deg."_


End file.
